


All Apologies

by RigorMorton



Category: Upgrade (2018)
Genre: Abusive Ship, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anger, Angst, Boys Kissing, Disturbing Themes, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Lovers, Feels, Forgiveness, Guilt, Hand Jobs, Hero/Villain Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Loneliness, M/M, Men Crying, Mentions of Death, Science Fiction, Self-Hatred, Sharing a Bed, Suffering, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-20 16:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RigorMorton/pseuds/RigorMorton
Summary: Grey Trace just can't kill him. He's too fast and always one step ahead. His wife's murderer will never pay for what he did. And all Grey can do is breakdown and cry.Excerpt: "You don't wanna kill me." Fisk, reaches out to lightly graze the side of Grey's face with his fingertips. "And I don't wanna kill you. We're alike, you and me. The only ones who understand each other."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I had to get out of my system, because I'm trash for fucked up ships. Since I'm the first one to write a fic with them, I declare their ship name is Grisk. 
> 
> This takes place during the confrontation between Grey and Fisk, except instead of Fisk dying, Grey gives up and has a meltdown.Fisk comforts him.

A distraught Grey, drops to his knees - the lump in his throat, beginning to sting.

It's useless. He can't beat this guy. He's too fast. Too powerful. Not even STEM can help him now.

His eyes swell up as hot tears begin to flow from them. He's exhausted. His mind, along with his body. 

Grey puts his face into his shaking hands and begins to sob. He doesn't know what else he can do. He doesn't even care if Fisk kills him. His wife is gone, and he's stuck in this body that isn't even his anymore. A servent to a bloodthirsty machine. He's ready for death. But surprisingly, that's not what happens.

 

"You don't wanna kill me." Fisk, reaches out to lightly graze the side of Grey's face with his fingertips. "And I don't wanna kill you. We're alike, you and me. The only ones who understand each other." He whispers, ghosting his fingers down the line of Grey's jaw, making full contact when they reach the bottom of his bearded chin.

Grey looks up at him through teary eyes. He's right. There's nobody else like him. Except the man who stands before him now. The man who murdered his wife and severed his spine. Grey feels sick.

"You made me like this. This….freak."

"No." Fisk shakes his head, squatting down on one knee in front of Grey. "I was just the hitman. I did not orchestrate this, Trace. This would've happened to you, with or without my help."

Grey knows it's true. But he still hates him.

"Trace. You're not a freak. You're beautiful." Fisk's fingers continue their journey, caressing the other man's face, swiping through the scruff of his thick beard. "You're perfect. An exquisite creature. If anything, I helped improve you."

Grey doesn't know why, but he finds comfort in the other man's voice. He's not sure if it's out of loneliness, or being in the company of someone who knows what it's like to have their body and life, no longer be their own. He just knows he does. And Fisk is surprisingly gentle for a psychopathic, killing machine. It's odd.

Fisk smiles, as if he can see Grey's acceptance of him, just by looking into his eyes.

"It'll all be ok." Fisk whispers, gently wiping a tear from underneath one of Grey's puffy, tired eyes, with the pad of his thumb.

Grey shuts his eyes and swallows thickly, practically bending to the other man's will, as he's pulled into Fisk's chest, strong arms enveloping him. They're warm and comforting, and so is the hand that cradles his head.

He can't understand why this cold blooded, killing machine is being so merciful. So gentle. It doesn't make sense. 

"Why are you doing this?" Grey sobs - his voice broken and muffled into the other man's shoulder. 

"Because I've been there." Fisk replies, running his fingers affectionately through Grey's hair. "I know the feeling of powerlessness. My body being enslaved. But you'll come to accept it. Trace. You will."

Grey sniffles, letting out a few more sobs into the other man's comforting embrace. And Fisk, rubs over his back, tenderly the whole time.

"Pull yourself together." STEM scolds from within his head. "We must finish our mission, Grey."

"Go away, STEM." Grey sniffles, sitting up straight and wiping the tears from his eyes.

His head goes silent. Apparently STEM still obeys him. Little does he know, it's just an act. That Stem is no longer controlled by him, thanks to the hacker removing STEM's input locks. He'll find out soon enough.

STEM is right though. Grey does need to get it together. 

He swallows thickly, looking uncomfortably into Fisk's deep blue eyes. He feels ashamed and embarrassed for being a sniveling mess.

"Oh God." Grey mutters, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm fucking pathetic."

Fisk shakes his head at him, rubbing the back of his hand over the grieving man's wooly beard.

 

Grey still doesn't know what to make of all this. Fisk explained his caring behavior, but it's still strange, considering how cold the killer was during he and his wife's attack in that alleyway. 

Fisk was smiling like he was enjoying it. Like a soulless subhuman. Yet here he is giving the same man whose wife he callously shot right in front of him, hugs. The man who he paralyzed and left to watch helplessly as his wife bled out.

Who would've thought someone so terrible could be capable of caring? Capable of a gentle touch and a warm embrace? But here they are.

Fisk must be lonely. It's possible that with his moderations, he can't interact intimately with normal humans without hurting them. Maybe he's starved for affection?

That question is pretty much answered when a warm hand wraps around the back of Grey's neck, pulling his head forward, as soft lips gently press against his.

Grey pulls away slightly on instinct, but Fisk persists, tightening his grip on his neck and prying his lips apart with his own.

Warm tongue fills Grey's mouth, and he fights against it at first, trying to turn his head away and close his mouth, but his resistance does not last long.

Fisk's tongue is warm and inviting. It washes over his so nicely. Gentle and languid. Grey almost forgot what it's like to be kissed. He misses it. He misses Asha. And the man whose tongue he's swallowing, is partly responsible for her death. He's ashamed of himself, but he can't stop. 

The warm tickle of Fisk's breath, beneath his nose is oddly comforting. Grey melts into the kiss, allowing his own tongue to meet up with the other man's.

Fisk's mouth is hot and wet, and oddly satisfying. And for a moment Grey is lost in a haze of comfort and confusion. But then….her face pops into his head. The gasping face of his dying wife as she bleeds out onto the pavement - shot by the man he's now kissing. 

Grey snaps out of his trance and pushes Fisk away from him, roughly. 

"No. You killed her. You didn't even make it quick. You let her live long enough for me to helplessly watch her die. You're sick." Grey's voice breaks from the tears building once again in his glands.

Fisk let's out a frustrated sigh, running his hands down his own face, with a huff.

"And you killed my brother."

Grey gives the other man a confused look.

"You remember? Don't you, Trace? Surely you remember dragging a knife through his jaw, to the back of his throat? "

Grey's stomach sinks. Serk was Fisk's brother. 'Oh shit.'

"I forgive you, though. I know you didn't know that. It wasn't personal any more than your wife's death. My brother's was revenge and your wife's was just a job. It's not any deeper than that." Fisk places a soft peck to Grey's lips, smiling down at him - his expression seemingly sincere. "Now we just have each other."

Grey nods, wiping his tears away once more. He's just so tired.

"You look exhausted." Fisk chuckles. "I have a big bed, and a warm body to fill it. To give it something I'm sure yours has been missing for quite some time. You're welcome to join me there. Just to sleep. To not be alone for one night." He stands back up, holding a hand out for the other man to grab.

Grey reluctantly does, letting Fisk help him back up to his feet. 

Maybe it's a trick. Maybe Fisk will kill him in his sleep. But he can't help but think that maybe that wouldn't be so terrible. There's really no risk involved.

Grey either finally attains the sweet release of death, or he finally gets a good night's rest with a living, breathing body to curl up to. A feeling he wasn't sure he'd ever have again. A feeling he didn't know he even still needed till just now. He's not even sure which alternative he prefers. It's a win win. Either way, there's one thing he won't be anymore. Lonely. And whether it's death, or Fisk's loving embrace that protects him from it, doesn't really matter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey wakes up in the middle of the night and he and Fisk end up doing more than sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to write some smut for this, because I'm trash.

Grey opens his tired eyes, blinking and sitting up quickly, because he forgot for a minute where he was. 

It's still dark outside. 

He glances over at the clock on the nightstand. It reads 3:15. Thank God. He's in no hurry to get up. 

Grey rolls over onto his side, now facing a sleeping Fisk. It's strange seeing such a ruthless killer sleep so peacefully - watching his chest rise and fall, and hearing the soft snore rumble in his throat. Then again, any of the witnesses to Grey's murders, might say the same thing about him. 

Maybe he and Fisk really aren't so different. Maybe they are one and the same. Misunderstood.

"This is a terrible idea, Grey." STEM interrupts.

Grey let's out a frustrated sigh. "Not now, STEM."

"But, Grey… we must continue the mission…"

Grey cuts him off. "Please just give me tonight. Please." He puts his face in his hands in frustration. "Just this one night of peace, and I'll go back to being your puppet tomorrow. Please."

STEM goes quiet and Grey sighs with relief. That is until he sees Fisk staring blankly at him, looking confused.

"Fuck." Grey mutters, feeling embarrassed. "It talks to me. The chip in my spine. Only I can hear it."

"I see." Fisk nods, flashing a sympathetic smile. "That must be really strange."

"You have no idea." Grey chuckles.

The room is quiet now. Nothing but awkward silence and the ticking of an old clock Fisk has hanging over the doorway for some reason, despite the alarm clock, right next to the bed. It must be for sentimental reasons. A token of his former life. Maybe one day he'll hear the story behind it.

Grey swallows thickly, becoming nervous at the way Fisk is looking at him. Affectionately. It's weird having another man look at him like that. Like Asha used to. Much less by the man who killed her.

All he can do is freeze like a dear in headlights. He hopes his nervousness isn't showing. 

Fisk scoots in closer, wrapping an arm around Grey and pulling him into his warm, shirtless chest.

Grey can't complain. The other man's embrace is comforting and delightfully warm. Fisk smells good. Like a musky, spiced deodorant. Possibly bodywash. And his skin is soft. Grey feels safe.

He thought he really did just want to sleep with Fisk tonight, but it takes the other man, not making another move to make him realize that might not be true.

"Kiss me." Grey mutters softly into the crook of Fisk's neck.

Fisk doesn't miss a beat. He pulls Grey's face to his and their lips meet again. 

Grey let's out a satisfied sigh against Fisk's upper lip. The kiss is soft and sensual. Intimate in a way, Grey didn't think he'd ever experience again. His cock twitches - a tingle forming in between his legs, for the first time since his spinal injury. 

Both men had discarded their shirts hours ago before getting into bed. They've only their pants to take off, which Fisk wastes no time getting to work on, quickly unfastening Grey's belt.

The tingle in Grey's cock grows stronger as it springs to life, just from having the other man's hand near it.

Fisk pushes him all the way on his back, down into the mattress, and crawls on top of him - their lips still connected, and Grey chokes back a moan when their clothed erections brush up together. 

He hasn't been touched there at all since Asha's been gone. Not even by his own hand. It makes the tingly feeling all the more intense.

Fisk deepens the kiss, delving his needy tongue into Grey's hot mouth, and palming over the bulge still confined by Grey's pants, eliciting a throaty groan from the man beneath him.

It feels so good, Grey wants to melt into the sheets. So tingly and satisfying. Being so aroused makes him more aggressive.

He moans into Fisk's mouth, reaching down between his legs, stroking and squeezing the other man's cock.

Fisk's fingers hook into the elastic band of the other man's pants and Grey lifts his hips, allowing him to tug them down his legs, along with his boxers.

Grey starts to get nervous. It suddenly all becomes real. They're gonna have sex, and the thought is intimidating. 

He knows the logistics of what goes on between two men during lovemaking, but he just isn't sure exactly how this is going to go down, or what exactly he's supposed to do. It's nervewracking. 

But he can pretty much figure it out when he's shoved back down into the mattress aggressively and Fisk prys his legs apart with his knees, spitting into his palm, and rubbing his fingers together until they're coated in saliva.

'Shit.' Looks like he's the one getting fucked. He's not sure how to handle this, so he squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to relax.

A slicked up finger slips inside him, making him suck in a breath. It's a little uncomfortable at first. His body automatically tenses up, treating it like an intrusion. 

Fisk slowly begins to thrust against the other man's insides, the finger entering him completely.

It moves along Grey's inner walls, grazing over his prostate - a part of his body that's never been stimulated.

It's so tingly and hot. His breath catches thickly in his throat - fingers curling into the flesh of Fisk's shoulder.

Fisk leans in and takes his lips once again. The kiss is harder this time. Rough and bruising. Relentless and deep - his tongue rolling over every inch of Grey's mouth.

Grey opens up to it immediately. Desperate. Practically swallowing the other man's tongue. Delicious and hot. Just like the wet finger, working inside him. Curling inward to hit his prostate just right.

"What are you doing, Grey?" STEM asks, making himself known once again. "You're not really going to have relations with this man, are you?"

Grey breaks the kiss with an angry huff. "Shut up." He mutters through grit teeth, making Fisk furrow his brow.

"Not you." Grey shakes his head, releasing an annoyed chuckle.

Fisk gives an amused, half smile and brings his hot mouth down along the underside of his jaw, making Grey's breath quicken at the slight sting of teeth that nibble at his neck.

Grey reaches out to rub over the tent forming in Fisk's pants, relishing in the look on the other man's face. Blue eyes falling closed at his touch - a hourse groan rattling in his throat. 

Grey's never touched a man down there before. Fisk's cock is heavy, and twitching in his hand. Warm and fleshy, even through his pants. It's oddly satisfying and makes his cock even harder which he didn't know was possible. 

Fisk withdraws his finger - Grey already slightly whining at the loss, and starts to work his own belt and pants undone.

Grey gulps, feeling really uneasy now. His knees knock together nervously as he watches the other man lean back - cock swaying up above his belly button, as he reaches to grab a tube of hand lotion off the nightstand, squeezing it out onto his palm, and dragging his slicked hand up and down his length.

Fisk pulls Grey's legs up around his waist and guides the swollen head of his cock to his entrance. It's hot and slick, pressing against him.

Grey's heart hammers away in his heaving chest as it starts to push in - his tight ring of muscle already protesting.

"Since you insist on going through with this foolishness, would you like me to block your pain receptors for you, Grey?" STEM interrupts, AGAIN. 

Grey would actually be grateful for this, except that would mean STEM would have to stick around. He'd rather deal with the pain.

"No." Grey barks, causing Fisk to immediately pause with hesitation. "Not you. I'm sorry." 

"It's alright." Fisk chuckles lightly, starting to push in again.

Grey instantly regrets not taking STEM up on his offer as the burn of the stretch hits him fast and hard - swollen cock, dragging along his inner walls.

He clenches his jaw, squeezing his fingertips roughly into Fisk's back. 

"The pain won't last long. Relax. You're mere moments away from bliss." Fisk whispers reassuringly, beginning to rock his hips back and forth, allowing him to open up around him as he starts fucking Grey on his cock.

Grey throws his head back onto the pillow, trying his best to will his body to relax. He goes as limp as he can - his legs barely hanging on to Fisk's sweaty hips.

Within seconds it starts to work. The burning sensation slowly fades, allowing a pleasant tingle to take its place. 

Grey breathes a sigh of relief, followed by a pleased noise in his throat. It feels good now. Tingly and warm. He feels full and satisfied - slick warmth sliding along his insides.

He watches Fisk's reactions closely. The other man's face contorts in pleasure - soft hisses being sucked through his teeth and bottom lip, as his cock dips into Grey's inner depths again and again. 

Fisk's chest is hot and sticky with sweat, rubbing against his with every thrust forward. 

The flick of a cap, grabs Grey's attention. He watches Fisk squeeze some out onto his palm - his thrusts never relenting, and stars stud his vision as a warm, sticky palm wraps around his throbbing cock. Squeezing and rubbing gently.

The sensation of Fisk's wicked hand tugging up and down his length, paired with the nudging of cock against his prostate, is overwhelming. 

He starts to come undone. Moans and obscenities slip from his quivering lips, and he hears a satisfied chuckle from Fisk, before warm lips press into his, delivering a soft peck.

"It's been a really long time, Trace. I'm afraid I won't last much longer. I'm sorry." Fisk says hoarsely, picking up speed with his hand - a wet, slick noise filling the room as his lotioned fingers rut up and down Grey's cock.

"Mmmm that's ok." Grey mutters out - his breath ragged. "I'm close too."

Fisk presses his sweaty forehead to his, snapping his hips forward, roughly - his cock bumping Grey's prostate one too many times, pushing Grey right over the edge he was already dangling by a thread on. That delightful warmth, radiating through his groin, makes him clench down around the other man's cock, as hot cum spills out all over his fingers.

Fisk doesn't bother to wipe it off. He just keeps thrusting roughly, chasing his own release.

It doesn't take long. Just a few more hip swivels and he's grunting and jutting sloppily against Grey's backside, emptying himself into the limp man beneath him, that's still recovering from his own orgasm.

Grey threads his fingers through Fisk's sweaty hair, feeling worn out and tingly. He pants ragged breaths, wincing as Fisk pulls his cock out with a squelch. 

His head swirls with what feels like a million thoughts at once. He feels so many things right now. Emotionally and physically. 

He just had sex with his dead wife's killer and he liked it. A little too much. It made his body feel things, he didn't even know it was capable of. 

It also made him feel slightly whole again. To be with someone who knew his pain. Whose heart probably held darker secrets than his.

It's cathartic and yet guilt inducing. He tries not to think about it. About how Asha would feel about him entering this monster's bed. He swallows the thought down quickly, trying to justify it with thoughts of her wanting him to heal and be happy.

"You ok?" Fisk whispers, settling down next to him on the bed - his hand gently running through Grey's hair, making his scalp prickle.

"Yeah." Grey pants. 

"You look so tired." Fisk replies, swiping his thumb gently over Grey's cheekbone. "Get some sleep."

Grey nods agreeingly, pulling the soft warm covers over his naked body, burying himself up to his chin.

He wants to ask Fisk about his time in the war, and what exactly was done to him and why. But instead he just stares blankly.

Poor guy, thinks he'll get the chance to learn these things later. He doesn't know the cruel fate that awaits him tomorrow, after he finishes his mission.

He curls up into Fisk's warm chest, throwing an arm over the side of the other man, and closing his eyes.

He's exhausted and confused. Still tingling from the high of his orgasm. Still conflicted over the man that gave it to him.

All the feelings soon fade as his exhaustion envelopes him. Sending him into the last sleep he'll ever sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ship will be the death of me. Hope you ficcers enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> I might write a part two. I have no idea if anyone will even read this. 
> 
> UPDATE: already over 800 words into part 2. Lol. Lots of inspiration for this one.


End file.
